


The Pillars of the Earth

by Persephonesheart



Series: Malec random one-shots [3]
Category: Pillars of the Earth, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Alec Lightwood, M/M, Minor Character Death, Outdoor Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Magnus Bane, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 03:29:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17911160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephonesheart/pseuds/Persephonesheart
Summary: On a stormy night, 1168, Earl Magnus Bane accepts into his protection two wandering siblings. It is clear they have faced something truly horric before their arrival and Magnus is determined to discover what exactly it is that the two are hiding. Through their time spent together Magnus finds himself falling in love with the brother of the pair - but will past events keep them seperated?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A pillars of the earth inspired au where Alec is based on Ailena, Magnus on Jack and Isabelle on Richard.This is a re-write, so some of you may have seen parts of this before





	The Pillars of the Earth

Earl Magnus Bane looked over to the corner of the room where the pair of travellers had been set down for the night. Someone had placed them in the far corner of the hall where they could find warmth and a small bale of hay to sleep on to protect them from the harsh stone floor – though Magnus noticed that the brother had given all the hay to his sister.

They were dirty, that had been his first impression. Their clothes looked to have been once of a good quality not too long ago but the journey undertaken and the events that had befallen them had done away with cleanliness. The boy wore the outfit of an earl or a minor viscount, loose cream coloured shirt beneath a tight fitting, dark blue waistcoat and close fitting black breeches and boots with a belt slung around his middle and a small coin purse dangling from it.

The shirt had been ripped at the collar and repaired, that much was obvious, and remnants of blood appeared on the seat of his breeches as if someone had tried to wash away the stain but failed. Overall his outfit carried hours’ worth of dirt on the fabric and it was obvious to Magnus that the boy had not had chance to wash himself or his clothes for a considerable amount of time.

The female wore a sky blue dress with long oval sleeves and a deep neckline but it was shorter now, the bottom continuously torn to make bandages or ripped from brambles in the road. She too – like her brother – was covered head to toe in dirt, her hair now tied in knots and limp from lack of washing. Belatedly, and rather horrifically, Magnus noticed she was missing the bottom half of her right ear, in place only a jaggedly line and realised that someone must have held her down, forced her to remain still as they had cut away at the appendage.

Just what  _had_  happened to these siblings.

He pitied them both despite not knowing their tale, something bad had clearly befallen them before they came to Magnus. They had no weapons, no spare clothes, no food and no money. All the pair had been able to offer as they stood shivering in his hall was the promise of labour come morning; all they asked for was a place to sleep and some food for the night.

It was obvious the pair were siblings, each carrying a strong resemblance of the other but in Magnus’ completely biased opinion the brother most definitely was the more handsome of the two. He stood a couple of inches shorter than Magnus himself, with beautifully pale ivory skin and a lithe willowy figure that wouldn’t have been out of place at the highest of courts. His eyes, so deep and vast in their blue hue, were wide and fiery when they first spoke before calming into content and peace as they had been accepted.

The blue of his eyes was unique, painfully so, and earl Magnus had been more than speechless upon seeing them.

The wind clashed open the shutter of his window, breaking the earl out of his musings, and Magnus turned his head away from the siblings and began the walk towards his rooms further above the castle. He swore to himself, with one last look at the sleeping pair cuddling together on the floor, that in the morning he would find out who these two were and where they came from.

 

 

He did not, as it so happened, get a chance to speak to the siblings the next day. They were whisked out of the hall before morning light or any otehr servant awoke, and put to work in the fields by his steward Raphael, who had watched them with scrutiny all throughout the day. The earl knew Raphael did not trust the pair, afterall highwaymen and robbers were becoming more popular with war just around the corner, and so had sent them out early to prevent them from stealing when everyone was sleeping and leaving before anyone else began their work.

But Magnus had watched- hidden from afar and peeked around a window-  and  _stared_ as the siblings simply bent their heads down and worked in the fields as hard as they could, never once complaining. A few times it was obvious the girl was gearing up to shout at Raphael, working herself up in a fury about rights and whatnot, to demand the treatment that they would have given would been given had they still been viscount and viscountess, but all it took was a gentle hand on her arm and fierce words spoken in her ear by her brother for the temper to die down.

How curious.

Magnus saw how the pair worked in the field tirelessly for the full day, longer than any of the other workers who Raphael paid actual wages to. They remained out there from before the sun had arisen and after it had fallen again, never stopping and constantly keeping their heads down. Magnus watched from his office window as the pair finally put down their tools and walked unsteadily, wearily, towards his castle in search of the food they’d been promised; perhaps Magnus could convince his steward to keep them on for a while longer, pay them so that they could begin to look after themselves once again.

Keep them so that they could remain safe from whatever had hurt them.

 

 

It took Magnus over a week but he had finally managed to get an opportunity to speak to one of the siblings. Today the boy was helping in the kitchen – originally the role had been assigned to his sister, but after rather adamant statements from both against this idea, the boy had been cleared to work their instead, his sister to take the field outside - and the pair had finally been split.

Alexander he was known to be called.  _Defender of men._

There had been no mention of a last name.

He was alone in the kitchen when Magnus went down; the other members had finished some time ago and left the poor boy to clean up after them. The dark haired male was still in the outfit he had arrived in, shirt slightly cleaner but with more stitching, blood remaining in the seat of his breeches. It was strange that he had not bought himself some new clothes, something fresher and less of a reminder of his past but it had not escaped Magnus’ notice that Isabelle (his sister had introduced herself rather agressively and with an air of entitlement, as if Magnus should have already known who she was) seemed to have more clothes than she could reasonably afford on her wage.

It was not hard to deduce that Alexander was giving his share of wages to his sister and that she wasn't spending any of it on him.

Magnus couldn’t deny the boy was beautiful, he couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen at most, but seeing him leaning over the side of a large pot, breeches pulled tight across one of the finest looking asses the earl had seen made something stir from deep within him. Alexander was beatiful but also  _incredibly_ tantilising. 

It was a well known fact that Earl Magnus was an undeniably handsome man and it was heavily rumoured in multiple courts - most notably the king's - that his bed was never empty of willing partners.

On a base level, Magnus hoped Alexander would be one of those willing.

From years of experiance, Magnus had learnt that most people apprecitated a direct or forward advance about his intentions and so without hesistation he pressed up close behind the brother, hands lightly touching his hips, not so close that his crotch touch the boys ass, but enough that his presence was immediately noticeable.

“Hello  _darling_ ”

The boy spun round impossibly fast and stepped back hastily, knocking the pot from its place on the table and falling down to the floor with it. His blue eyes, usually clouded and slightly grey, were wide in panic, frantically looking aroudnd the room for a few moments before noticing the earl stood nearby and reverting back into their usual state – however Magnus noticed there was now a slight glazed look to his eyes.

Without a word the boy stood qucikly before him, bowing his head slightly with respect and placing his arms behind his back, looking every inch like a composed viscount’s son and soldier.

“Good evening Earl Bane.”

His voice was strong, or at least trying to be, and gruff, with a roguish quality that spoke of fear and mistrust. It was clear in the way he spoke that he did not wish for Magnus to mention that moment before, did not wish for him to address the fall and sheer panic that had enveloped his face.

It was not a wish of Magnus' to ignore this silent request.

“No need for such honorifics Alexander, we are all friends at my castle, please,” he added as Alexander’s mouth opened in protest “I insist upon the fact.”

The kitchen fell silent again, the smaller boy twirling his wash cloth between his hands in worry and Magnus wondering how to advance the conversation to a non-awkward stage. “I must thank you, Earl Bane, for your hospitality and care towards my sister and I, you have been most kind to us and I fear I shall never be able to repay you for this.”

Magnus simply shook his head and took a step closer – stopping instantly when Alexander immediately took one step back – a pleasant smile on his face. “No need, you are both hard workers and it is hardly a strain for me to help you, please you are doing me a service with your help.” It had not slipped Magnus’ notice that Alexander had said ‘ _I´_ instead of ‘ _we_ ’ when discussing repayment – the boy was making clear that no advantage was to be taken of his sister for Magnus’ hospitality, but did that mean Alexander  _was_ a willing partner and subtly suggestion something?

“Actually,” Magnus began, trailing a finger up the smooth ivory skin of the boys forearm and connecting their eyes, “I was wondering if I could secure your company for the evening?” It was flirty,  _coy_ , the sort of thing that got serving boys on their knees and ladies pulling his hand under their skirts wiht barely a second to spare.

Alexander did not seem to appreciate his attempt.

He tore Magnus’ hand off his arm, blue eyes turning stormy and cold, and scowled with a deep, profound anger. “I’m sorry my Earl, but I cannot.” His voice was distant, laced with disgust and anger, and he turned his body quickly from Magnus’ own and tore out of the kitchen like a whirlwind, leaving behind all the pots and cleaning of the evening. Clearly Alexander was not as accepting as Magnus thought.

Well, that was certainly a surprise.

 

 

It had taken another week for Magnus to catch Alexander’s sister, Isabelle _,_ alone; he hadn’t been able to see, let alone talk, to Alexander at all since their last encounter and he deeply regretted the way he’d acted. The siblings had clearly gone through something horrific if Alexander’s reaction to his presence and Isabelle’s ear were any indication, and it had been a foolish fancy that had led him to make attempt.

It was a sure thing Alexander would reject him.

It was also clearly the reason Isabelle was glaring at him with defiant anger when he had caught up to her in the washing room. She wasn’t alone like her brother had been, the washing room always filled with servants doing the castles laundry, but it did had not prevented her from glaring at him in front of all his loyal subjects and tutting her tongue once her eyes met his own.

“Earl Bane” she spoke sarcastically, thinly veiled disgust in her words. It was obvious that her brother had informed her of Magnus’ approach, told her of his inclination to male company as well as female. It seemed they both shared the closed mindedness of many nobles.

“Miss Isabelle, I seek only to officially welcome you to my lands, nothing more, after all you have impressed not only me with your skills and hard work in the fields. You and your brother make quite a pair.” He said it to relieve tension, to offer her an olive branch. It was often, in Magnus case, fortunate to gift women little compliments from time to time in order to keep them happy and at ease with him. It had been said that charm was his most redeaming quality.

It would seem that Isabelle would not share this opinion.

“I am sure Earl that you are  _pleased_ with my brother.” It was said in a vicious whisper so as to not be overheard but it hurt Magnus all the same. Perhaps he had been a  _little_  hasty in his proposition of Alexander the week before but Magnus had never been denied his requests before and commonly people flocked to his bed in times of distress to forget about their issues. So it wasn't unreasonable that he only wanted a  _little_  forgiveness for the brashness of his request -how was he to know Alexander wasn't so inclined?

“I humbly apologies Miss Isabelle, for offending your brother, I simply wish to know where he is so I can apologise for my actions. I had not intended for what happened.” He spoke solemnly, allowing the girl to see his vulnerability and sincerity. For whatever reason, one that he could not explain, least of all to himself, Magnus couldn’t stand the thought of the blue eyed boy hating him and needed reassurance of the opposite.

Isabelle seemed to think it over, mulling about his words inside her head. He did not know her story nor her brothers, but Isabelle had clearly been educated as a child, something only a noble woman had the chance of, and that seemed to make her fate all the more tragic. “Very well Earl Bane, if you swear to me you are telling the truth I will help you apologise to my brother.”

Magnus began to smile, opened his mouth to gift her with complements and thanks yous but she stopped him with a raise of her hand and a fierce glare sent his way. It annoyed him a little, Isabelle was no longer a woman of any status and therefore she did not have any right to raise her hand and make him wait, but it was clear she was still adjusting to her new life. “If you are lying to me Earl Magnus, if you do not apologise to my brother, then I hope the fires of Hell burn you for all eternity and condemn you to their flames forevermore.”

She said it so viciously, spat it so venomously that Magnus was confident in his belief that she would personally throw him down to hell and happily watch him burn if he proke his promise. It was not a place he would like to go and the thought of eternal damnation, of going against God to the point of complete destruction, was truly horrifying to him and he longed for it not to happen.

He simply nodded and allowed the girl to resume her washing duties. He mulled over her protection of her brother; it was so strong and so profound it would not be hard pressing for Magnus to assume she would lay down her life for him. He could equally imagine Alexander doing the same for her.

What a truly loving, protective pair of siblings -  how unusal in this day and age

 

 

The serenity he had found yesterday from Isabelle’s words had not lasted long. In the early rise of the sun the very next morning, Raphael had burst into his bedchambers with little care toward his nudity and brandished a piece of paper around like an invitation to Lady Seelie’s infamous masquerades, however he had not let Magnus see it.

His steward had wasted no time in forcing Magnus out of bed and into presentable day clothes, fitting him into a pale blue shirt, black fitted waistcoat and breeches with his dark blue cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He had still yet to tell Magnus exactly what was going on.

Raphael led him out of the castle grounds and into the peasant town below, carefully dodging around the few people who had started their days at such an early time. It was not often Magnus got to see this side of his town, see the way in which the sun broke the horizon in a burst of yellows and oranges, see how his citizens ambled slowly from their small wooden houses and began preparing for the day.

For what seemed like hours, Raphael led him down a winding pathway of small houses and miniature courtyards filled with young children who had been allowed out to play. They kept to the shadows, Raphael unwilling to waste time on Magnus being recognised, and seemed to walk for a further considerable amount of time before stopping. They had stopped at a place that was hardly anything noteworthy; small and wooden with a thatched roof and slightly crumbling walls.

It spoke of poverty and confined space, looking as if it would struggle to support a small family of three inside. Magnus wondered who owned the place and why exactly Raphael had brought him here waving around a piece of paper like a flag. In answer to his question his steward placed his finger to his lips to make Magnus understand the need to be quiet before raising his boot to the door handle and kicking it in, splintering the door open.

So much then for being quiet.

From inside a high pitched scream came followed by a loud, low shout of alarm and Raphael stormed inside, dragging along a surprised and confused Magnus in tow. His first assumption had been correct, the house seemed even smaller on the inside and was scarcely decorated; there were no chests or draws, no cupboard or dining table, no beds.

Instead there was a small, knee high wooden table with one pair of cutlery fixed upon it, two rolls of rags to make beds and a small but strong fire blazing in the middle of the floor creating a slightly smoky atmosphere. It was with a surprise that Magnus saw Alexander and Isabelle clutching each other tightly in the corner of the room, huddled together with their skin paler than usual and a look of horror etched onto their faces.

_They’d been in this situation before_

“What is the meaning of this Raphael? Why have we disturbed these two from their rest?” The earl was not afraid to admit that his voice was slightly whiny, he had better things to do  _damn it_ that didn’t involve getting caught up in all of Raphael’s dislike of the siblings.

“It is quite simple Magnus, these two are Alexander and Isabelle  _Lightwood_.”

Lightwood.

The name rang aroud his head in an angry flurry.

Lighwood

As in vicomte Robert Lightwood who, only a short while ago had attempted to create a gathering of lords, earls and other vicomtes in order to overthrow King Luke.

Luke had been always been a close friend of Magnus’, almost since the beginnings of his childhood, and the betrayal of the Lightwood family had been momentous to them both – who could they trust if their very own inner circle was plotting against them?

Robert Lightwood had been stripped of his title, his land, his finances and thrown to the dungeons before being publicly executed before the King himself. The mother had long sinced passed away but Robert had shouted into the streets that she shone down upon him from heaven in support of what he was doing and even at the moment of death spoke little of anything else. His children, by the law of the land, had also lost everything after their fathers disgrace, only remaining free because Luke wanted to show a gesture of goodwill and mercy towards them.

They had not been seen in the days following their fathers arrest and many assumed they had fled the country itself; unaware and ungrateful of the clemency they’d been given.

How dare they stand before him now, work in his fields and in his castle after everything their family did? They were traitors to the crown, every single one of the family, and Magnus couldn’t believe that he’d been giving them comfort for almost three weeks, couldn't believe he'd flirted and tried to  _bed_ one of his own freewill.

“I thought I recognised them the first time they came to the palace, so I got Ragnor to look into it and he sent me the proof.” Raphael continued on, unaware of Magnus tuning him out, unaware of the tightening grip the siblings held onto each other and their rapidly falling faces.

They could not deny the truth.

“You will leave.” Magnus bit out harshly, he would not stand for having such people in his town, such  _traitors_. Isabelle turned to look at him with teary yet determined eyes, her face now blank of emotion, her grip tightening almost unnoticeably around her trembling brother. Alexander refused to look up at them.

“Why?” She demands, voice wavering in fear. There is a subtle movement happening between the siblings, both trying to edge their way in front of the other for protection, both trying to take the brunt of the interaction.

“I do not have traitors amongst my people.” It is a simple rule, one not hard to follow, and he will not allow for anyone to get by it, no matter how attractive Magnus finds them.

“We are no traitors!” She shouts loudly and the earl sees Alexander flinch almost implicitly at her rise of volume, not out of the unexpected increase of volume but out of fear. The movement sets alarm bells ringing in his ear.

“Oh really, because your father-” Raphael begins, smug smile fixed on his face as he glances at the two siblings cowering almost defiantly in a corner.

“ _The son shall not bear the punishment for the father’s iniquity”_ Alexander suddenly quotes in near desperation. His voice is quiet, fearful, uncertain, and he clutches to his sister with an iron grip afraid of both losing her and being parted from her. His words prompt Raphael to stop his tirade of abuse, and both he and Magnus look upon them with surprise.

Its Isabelle who carries on, explains to them both in a small pained voice the events of their fathers betrayal. She had not known about it at the time, as a woman she was kept out of her fathers study and his politics, unaware of the mounting rebellion he was crafting and so upon learning of his actions she had been unable to believe it, locking herself away in her room to protect herself from the army that had come to siege them in retaliation.

Alexander, it seemed, had not even been there for the majority of Robert’s scheming. “He was fighting in the name of King Luke in a war, he’d only returned for a day before siege was laid upon us.” Isabelle continues to explain, voice now scratchy and face filled with tears. Not once does anyone interrupt her, her brother only wrapping her arms around her in comfort, and she finishes her story with a quiet sadness.

“Sebastian Morgenstern killed our people, our friends right before our eyes. Forced us to watch as he slit their throats one by one; he killed our step brother with little feeling or care, laughing the whole time. He forced Alexander to watch as he stabbed our little brother over and over again, ignoring the pleas and cries for help. He forced my brother to hold little Max as he bled out on the floor and laughed when he requested for a small funeral ceremony. Max was nine for godsake, he'd never harmed a single person in his life! We were kept at the castle, forced to be there by the vicomtes son, Alexander suffered.... " She stopped when Alexander's hands clutched even tighter around her, silently begging her to keep quiet about  _something_. 

Magnus wanted to know but he knew that now was most certainly not the time.

"When we left we didn’t use our family name, couldn't use our family name and took any jobs that came. We did not come here in some misguided attempt at hiding our true identities only to rise when the time was right. We simply wanted somewhere to sleep and to earn money and food.”

She’s omitting several important details Magnus thinks, something that happened to them back at their castle before being thrown out – probably the cause of her missing ear – but he can’t find it within himself to call her out on it, not when her and her brother was so obviously afraid of losing the one place they had left to call home.

“Very well, you may stay here, but know that we will be keeping a close eye on you.”

He ignores Raphael’s indignant squeak.

 

 

His chance to talk to Alexander comes a few day later on a beautiful Sunday morning while everyone is at church. He was stood underneath a tree south of the church doors, not paying attention to any one thing in particaular, mind running a mile a minute, and clearly waiting for his sister to emerge from inside so that they could then spend the day privately with one another as they usually did. They had begun to keep to themselves after Raphael's frightening attack on their home - in fact they had moved to a similar house a few streets away afterwards - and had withdrawn from society.

“Not one for church?” Magnus calls out as he strides over, voice loud enough to alert the boy to his presence early so as to not alarm him. To his credit, Alexander doesn’t flinch or outwardly react to his approach, simply continues to stare at the church doors with apparent disinterest. It's not surprising that the smaller boy doesn't want to interact with Magnus, the earl had caused quite a few problems for the siblings already and most of their interactions ended up in a bad way.

“Not really, I lost my faith in it some time ago.” He states, voice definitive and prepared to argue. It's a shock that Alexander has spoken to him, allowed himself a moment of interaction that so few experiance. Clearly the idea of church and prayer was was something Alexander believed strongly about if he was willing to break his silence with Magnus.

“I must admit the same I’m afraid, I know I’m supposed to put in appearances as the Earl but religion is something I find hard to follow from within a building.” Magnus admitts, perhaps for the first time ever. Deep down Magnus is a devoutly religious man, but he's barely ever been inside a church, instead finding faith in the streets and the people of his town.

They lapse into an easy silence, surprisingly not awkward in spite of their slight amnosity towards the other, waiting for the bell to ring and the doors to open. They don’t talk to each other or even look at each other but it is one of the most significant and blissful mornings Magnus has ever had in his life. He finds himself enamoured a little more with the raven haired male, feels a deep stirring that goes beyond the sexual that he hasn't felt for a very.  _very_ long time.

When the doors open and the crowd surges out, the two part in search of their respected people without saying goodbye or acknowledging the others presence.

Its surreal and yet, incredibly beautiful.

 

 

They meet underneath the tree every Sunday whilst waiting for others to emerge from the church just across the way. It's not intentional, not planned, but the tree is the best place to stand when trying to find someone coming through the doors and in summer the sun always hits the tree at just the right angle making it both light and blissfully warm. Sometimes they don’t talk, staring endlessly at stone buildings and empty stalls for a couple of hours before moving off and doing their respective business, silence prevailing between them. But sometimes they sit close together, legs entwined, head on shoulders, and talk endlessly of pointless and irrelevant things, happily sharing facts about their respective days. 

Their friendship began with Alexander recounting a story he had once read from a book, trying to remember the words to recite to Isabelle later on, and Magnus helping him to complete it. From then they had gently broached the subject of books and art, finding they had many intrests in common and allowing something to grow from their mutual enjoyment of words - Magnus had shortly begun to bring books from his personal library to read aloud from whilst Alexander simply recited stories of old from a home that was no longer his. Secretly Magnus had begun to craft a story - pretending to read from his book - about the pair of them, twisting it into a romance filled with longing and passion. 

It is Magnus’ favourite time of the week.

It is on one of these meetings where the two finally give in to their emerging feelings. Magnus hungrily pins the smaller man to the tree, pushes his ass tight against the bark and licks into his mouth like a starving man. They move hot and heavy against each other and Alexander’s hands grope desperately around his chest and body, feeling the muscles and dips of Magnus’ body as he allows himself to be devoured.

The younger boy jumps and wraps his legs around Magnus’ waist, dragging him closer and moaning at the sensation of their groins pressing together, delighted at the sinful pleasure shooting around his body. They move as one against the tree; bodies undulating, pressing, pulling as they moan and beg for more. They breathe into each other’s mouths, breath gasping out of them and Magnus rolls his hips in waves and Alexander pushed himself down, down,  _down_.

The earl takes the boy apart with his fingers, one at a time, and enjoys the sensation of tightness and heat he receives. The moans in his ears, the mewling and the begging, are sent from the heavens themselves and Magnus kisses the plump red lips before him in hunger. When he’s ready, when Alexander is moaning and whining desperately, pushing down on his fingers relentlessly, Magnus lines himself up and pushes is with one fell swoop.

Alexander yells to the heavens and they begin to move together once more, bodies clutching tighter and tighter. Magnus' body loses itself to the sensation of the hot, tight cavern of Alexander and as he continues to clamp down his muscles, the Earl finds himself nearing the edge. He calls to his lover, praises him,  _worships him_ , as a white load is released above them onto their stomachs. It is not long after Magnus follows, white blinding his vison momentarily as he lets go inside of his lover.

He has never been closer to God.

 

 

It is almost four months after the Lightwood siblings came to them that Magnus learns the truth of what happened when the two were held prisoner in their own home. They two are lying on Magnus’ bed, wrapped tightly in furs as the fire roars near them and Alexander is wrapped securely in his lovers arms, his raven black hair tickling Magnus’ nose as he spoons the smaller man and clasps him tight to his chest, back cradled gently in the space between his head and legs.

Magnus learns that the vicomte Valentine Morgenstern’s son, Sebastian Morgenstern had been a prospective husband for Alexander - arranged by Robet himself - but his young lover had turned down the blonde's proposal and humiliated him before leaving to war, calling him a dog and besmerching his honour. It was this man who had forced Alexander and Isabelle to remain inside their castle as little than prisoners, forcing them to cook and clean for him and his men, locking them into their old rooms when he did not require them.

His lover tells him of the regular beatings he took whilst Isabelle was forced to watch, the fists and sticks that were used against him nightly, tells him of how Sebastian often ‘forgot’ to feed them or allow them time to wash and would fly into abusive rages at the drop of a hat.

He tells him, head tucked into Magnus’ shoulder and eyes clenched shut, of the night they escaped. Of the way in which their plan had been discovered by Sebastian and his small army through the betrayal of their house's steward Hodge and the way in which the group had kicked down the door to their room armed, half mad and half drunk.

“One of them forced Isabelle down, laid her flat on the floor and pressed her head against the ground. I thought they were going to destroy her virtue, take what was not theirs to take, but they didn’t. I thought they would ruin her beyond all measure.” He breathes and a wet sounding sob follows as he tried to collect himself to continue on. It had been the one thing he’s asked Magnus not to do before he’d started -  he didn’t want to be interrupted or stop because once he did he would never be able to start again.

“To her it was a warning of compliance, ‘don’t react and we won’t do anything’ kind of thing. To me it was blackmail. As long as my sister was there, and the treat of losing her so close, I would do anything without resistance.”

He tells Magnus quietly of the way in which Sebastian Morgenstern had forced him down onto the bed and stripped him fully of both clothing and dignity. His voice is laced with pain as he tells Magnus of the way in which Sebastian had given himself access to Alexander’s body, using it as he wished without care for damages or bleeding. ”Over and over again, never stopping for hours.” He says, voice and face blank of all emotion.

His breathing stops Alexander explains that, after Sebastian, all of the blonde's advisors and trusted allies had been given permission to use his body in whatever way they chose. He explains that neither he nor Isabelle were brave enough to scream out, too fearful of the consequences of such an action and foolishly beliveing that Sebastian would keep his word if Alexander just lay back and gave himself away.

The man holding Isabelle had cut part of her ear off so that he could leave her and have his way with Alexander; he was forced to watch, helpless, as his baby sister cried and screamed at the pain she was in, unable to reach her from his position on the bed, trapped under the weight of a man twice his size.

Both Magnus and Alexander are silent after that, reflecting on dark and dreadful moments of the past, before Magnus breaches the distance and places a gentle kiss upon his loves forehead. A sign of alliance, a sign of love.

For tonight, they fall asleep entwined completely with each other.

 

 

A year later they are stood high on a balcony. Earl Magnus Bane stands beside Earl Alexander Bane and his sister-in-law vicomtess Isabelle Lightwood and watch the gallows down below. Stood upon them with glowing yellow hair and a sallow complexion is Sebastian Morgenstern, a rope tied tightly around his throat and his hands tied behind his back. He is shouting, screaming abuse at them and spitting in their direction.

He cannot hurt them now, cannot hurt anyone now, and hundreds of townpeople have come to witness the fall of the ‘great and powerful’ vicomte Sebastian Morgenstern – all the people he had ever hurt and seen their familes destroyed. Magnus reaches out and clasps his darling's hand with his own and squeezes tightly, a silent show of support in the face of such a monster. Alexander doesn’t look at him or Sebastian, not directly, but the hand squeezes back and lips descend upon his cheek absently, so he counts it as a win.

When the hatch is opened and the body drops people begin to cheer in wild abandonment, finally free from the tyrant who had made their lives a living hell.

No one was sad that this death had happened.

To his right Alexander’s face is painted with happy tears and his shoulders are relaxed in a way never before. He is safe now and Sebastian will haunt his dreams no more, no one can get to him or his sister ever again. Magnus presses his lips gently against Alexanders own, breathes into him all the love and devotion he can and grasps him tightly around his waist as their kiss deepens.

“I love you Alexander Bane”

“I love you too Magnus Bane”

For once the sun shines above them a little brighter and the world seems a little happier. They are together, they are safe and they are in love.

Magnus was glad he had found Alexander. After today, he thought, the world would never quite be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, got a little inspired and desired to revise this piece of work based upon one of my favourite books - the pillars of the earth, hope you enjoyed it. Please don't hesistate in commenting on what you liked, didn't and any other random prompts you have in mind.


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